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My favorite bitch is back

Woke up this morning, dragged my ass out of bed to do some laundry – that’s how my RDO (regular day off) during the week usually starts – and there she was, waiting for me right by my bed.

Baseball. The coldest of bitches.

The first sign that she’s cold is that she was not on my bed with me, but waiting beside it. She didn’t want me to be too comfortable, and she wanted me awake. At first when I saw her, I was all excited and stuff because she looked so fucking hot after all those months away. Then I remembered how she broke my heart (like she usually does at the end of every year) and a little caution came into play.

ME: How’d you get in here? I know the door is locked.

HER: You gave me the key, remember?

ME: Yeah, but I changed the locks after Napoli was traded. That was the final straw.

HER: (breathy, Marilyn Monroe voice) I know, and I missed you, Glen. I really did. It just wasn’t the same without you.

ME: Oh really? That’s sweet. I missed you too, but I can’t help remembering how you left me last October. That was cold, ya know. It still hurts.

HER: I know, but that was last year. I’m different now, I’m a lot better. Just look at me! I’ve got your favorite Angels shirt on, unbuttoned just how you like it. And I got a boob job too! Look how nice and firm they are.

ME: (Swallowing, losing strength) Oh my. Yes, they look great! Wow. Hey, is it just me, or are you wearing a lot of makeup to try to disguise a mediocre-at-best off-season?

HER: Oh Glen, come on. Remember how much you liked me at the start of last year? I look just the same now but with better tits! You know you want me.

ME: That’s a compelling argument for sure. You do look good with all that stuff on. Wow.

HER: That’s right. Get over here and pledge your loyalty to me for the rest of the year.

ME: God I want to. You look great. I just don’t know if all that makeup will stay on for the rest of the year, ya know? What happens when it starts to wear off and you get injuries, and don’t have enough makeup to cover up for them? You’ll be in pretty bad shape.

HER: Come on, Glen. You’ve seen me without my makeup, you know what I’m like. Yet you still come back to me. You always will. get over here now. I’m not gonna wait long. Is that a Trumboner I see under the sheets?

ME: Yeah, but it’s going down since his final week in spring training has looked pretty bad. (Sweating a bit now) Fuck. You know me too well. I don’t care if you look like a corpse, I’ll keep coming back. I’m weak like that.

HER: That’s my boy. Get over here and love me while I still have my start-of-the-season glow!

ME: Om nom nom.

And so it goes. Baseball starts in spring with all the promise of the flowers and trees blooming, and ends in fall with everything going cold. Yet I keep coming back to her, that cold-hearted bitch. I just can’t get enough.